’Maister Launcelot,’ said Meg Dalrymple, in a changed voice, ’ye come o’ a guid, kind hoose, and ye tell no lies. I am free to believe you. But my bairn is tint a’ the same. What will I do! Oh, what will I do?’ ’Go home and bide quiet,’ I bade her, gently. ’I shall myself speak to the Earl. And fear not but we will find your lad if he be in the land.’ *CHAPTER XXXIII* *THE DEVIL IS A GENTLEMAN* But William Dalrymple was not to be so easily gotten. High and low he was sought for, but no trace of him was found. A girl had seen him taking the road to Cassillis with the dust rising behind him, as was his wont. For, as I have said, he was the best runner in the school of Maybole, and in the winter forenights he kept himself in fine practice with outrunning Rob Nickerson, the town’s watchman. So on a day, since no better might be, Nell Kennedy and I rode out to Auchendrayne. At first we had it trysted to go by ourselves, but Dominie Mare declared that he would come with us—’and wait in the hall, if ye were asked to gang ben’,’ as he said, meaningly. ’For they might put you and the lassie awa’, and never hear mair of it. But even John Mure and his son would think twice before they either sequestered or murdered the Dominie o’ Maybole, and the Clerk of the Kirk Session thereof.’ So, though his coming with us wearied Nell and myself somewhat and hindered our discourse on the journey, it all turned out for the best in the end, as things that are bitter in the taking often do. I was, I will own, monstrously curious to see the tower of Auchendrayne and the surroundings of it; for there were strange rumours in the countryside concerning gangs of wild, savage folk that sometimes camped under the trees, and tales of horrid faces which might at any moment glower at you from the dark bole of a gnarled oak. But this fair sunshiny day we that rode saw nothing but the leaves rustling and clashing above us, and heard nothing but the sough and murmur of the Doon water beneath us. Auchendrayne is a place hidden among woods—set on a knoll, indeed, but with trees all about it, not conspicuous and far-regarding like the Newark or Culzean. When first we saw it the grey battlements looked pleasantly enough out of the greenery, basking as peacefully in the sun as though they had risen over the abode of some hermit or saint. We saw nought of the customary stir and bustle of an habited house about the mansion of Auchendrayne. None ran to the office houses. None carried bundle nor drove cattle about the home parks. It was a peace like that of a Sabbath day. ’A black devil’s Sabbath!’ said the Dominie, grimly. And in truth there was something not altogether canny about thus coming to a dead and silent house, with the sun shining hot and the broad common day all about and above.